


Meet Cute

by AceOfAnnunaki



Category: Mesopotamian Mythology, Original Work
Genre: F/M, Modern Era, Mythology - Freeform, Not very accurate to the actual myth tbh, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29996049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceOfAnnunaki/pseuds/AceOfAnnunaki
Summary: A destroyer god and death itself walk into a bar...Not super accurate to the myths, but I thought it would be fun to tinker with some ideas I had. This story involves Nergal and Ereshkigal from the Mesopotamian myths. I was also very inspired by Worldbuilding Notes (youtube) video "Bone Mountain | The Names of Souls"
Relationships: Ereshkigal/Nergal
Kudos: 2





	Meet Cute

The Club of Ishtar was always hopping - day and night. The lady of the club herself sat up in her private balcony section, overlooking the gods as they danced with her priestesses, drank, and made conversation. It was often the first stop for any deity passing by Uruk, and tonight was no exception.

Ishum sat nervously at the bar, as his lord and master Nergal polished off his third beer. “Sir, your mentor is expecting us in Eridu...” The lord of Blight had managed to convince his reluctant servant to make a temporary visit to the club, since they’d traveled a long way, and they could afford a break.

“He’s immortal, I’m sure he can wait a few more days...” Nergal muttered. “Plus I know he’s just going to tell me the same damn this he says every time I lose control.” They’d returned from Babylon, whereupon Nergal had taken up his axe and slaughtered people in the streets. Ishum had trailed behind him and tried to put out his fires.

“We’ve committed a major offence…”

“Psh.” Negal scoffed. “They’re just humans.” He tried to explain that it was just his way - when he was bored or angry he broke things. He’d tried to contain his temper, but it was simply nature. Now everytime he went on a rampage Ea would give him the same lecture about ‘keeping his nature in check’. 

He should only march against the enemies of the gods, the ancient one had told him. But that simply wasn’t fair, he’d thought. It didn’t matter to him if the people liked the gods or not. He was nothing if not an egalitarian brute. 

“Loosen up, mate,” The warrior said to his servant. “Nothing ill is coming our way, I can assure you of that.” The jovial, electro-pop music that had been playing abruptly stopped. Nergal’s brow raised when Ishum’s face went sheet-white, and the glass mug he’d been sipping off of slipped through his fingers and shattered on the ground. 

The entire club had gone silent as the grave. Standing at the entrance to the bar was a tall, dark figure. It stepped inside, its garments making hollow clacking sounds as it went. When the fluorescent light illuminated the person, Nergal saw they were dressed in a cloak made entirely from human bones. Skulls at their shoulders, femur, tibia and fibula strung together in layered pleats, and multiple sets of pelvic bones making a belt. Their face was hidden behind a mask made from the skull of a massive serpent, and a set of pitch black wings were folded behind the cloak. 

Ishum looked like he was about to soil himself. 

“Who’s that?” Nergal grinned. None of the other gods spoke a word to the figure, as it strode in, sweeping in grey clouds around it’s feet. He’d never felt such a terrifying presence before. One of the lesser gods, an Igigi, approached, bowing so low to the cloaked one that he might have snapped in half. 

“Um.. If you’ll pardon me… Masks aren’t allowed… club rules,” The man stuttered, through panicked breaths.

Slowly, the figure removed the massive skull, revealing corpse-pale skin, long, sleek black hair, and piercing golden eyes.

“Oh, It’s a woman!” He marveled. The Igigi accepted the mask with shaking hands. A beautiful one at that, he thought to himself. 

“Careful with that,” She had a voice cold as the chillest winter winds. “It belonged to a friend of mine.” 

“My lord, don’t look at her!” Ishum hissed at him, under his breath. The servant had his eyes fixed at the bottles behind the bar, and sweat had pooled above his upper lip. 

“Why not?” He whispered back. 

“She’ll curse you!” Now he knew who she was. The queen of the underworld, he thought. She really was all that people said about her. Her wings vanished from her back, and she strutted along the now dead dance floor, the gods scattering like rats at her approach. 

….

Ereshkigal almost never came to the surface, in principle. Running the underworld and managing the dying of all things was a tireless job of course, one she rarely got a break from, and yet here she was in her Sister’s house, spending her free time on a pointless errand. 

Laughter and chatter died as she passed through the doorway. As per usual all the gods - greater and lesser - shied away or hid themselves from her. She walked across the now empty dance floor, eyes wandering around the room. None of the gods looked back at her.

All except for one. Sitting on a barstool was a god whom she’d never seen before, leaning on his elbow and watching her intently. He had black eyes. He was smiling at her, as if he was pleased to see the Queen of the Dead. She held his gaze for a few moments - before she felt slightly sheepish, and moved along towards the staircase to the suite floor.

She did not even need to ask the attendants to lift the rope and let her in. She ascended to the private suite, where she saw her sister, wearing nothing but her arm and ankle bracelets and her golden crown, seated upon a cushioned throne. 

Two male servants fanned her, while more naked women sat clustered around her legs, and hung at her waist. A lion lounged in her lap.

“Hey, sis,” Ishtar’s perfect smile was ever-radiant. Ereshkigal’s stomach curdled. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

“I was in Babylon.” She murmured. “Before I went home I thought I might give you Dumzid’s latest tablet.” Ishtar’s husband was her prisoner for half the year. Not that she cared, she was surrounded by beautiful courtesans ready to serve her every need. 

“Gee, thanks.” Ereshkigal set the tablet on the table. Her sister didn’t seem at all eager to reach for it. “Why don’t you sit and we can catch up for a bit? You look like you could use a breather.” Their relationship had always been strained, and she was eager to get back to her duty, but she figured she would oblige. She’d already come this far.

“Fine.” The Queen of Night adjusted her bone-cloak so that she could sit in one of the chairs across from her sister. 

Ishtar laughed, and bid one of her lovely priestesses to fetch food and drink for them. 

“So how are things in the underworld?”

“Lively.” Ereshkigal half-smiled at her own joke. “Who’s that god sitting at the bar?” The queen glanced over to see if he was still there. He was, and was still staring at her. She turned away when their eyes met. 

“Hm?” Ianna stroked the mane of the lion in her lap and squinted out over the floor. “Oh, him? Don’t recall his name. Another one of Enlil’s bastards.” One of her priestesses brought out beer, and nervously set a mug before the Queen. 

“You know I don’t drink that swill,” Ereshkigal glared towards her sister, and the servant was immediately terrified. 

“Sorry… my lady, forgive me…” The priestess removed the glass with shaking hands. Why were all of them so afraid? She was only death, after all. 

“Why do you ask?”

“I don't know, I think he was... interested.” Ereshkigal mentioned, feeling her heart start to beat a few paces faster. That was a funny feeling. She squinted once more across the bar to look at the god - he was broad shouldered, with long tied back-brown hair, a fine green-and-gold robe, and an axe at his belt. He had a short beard, ears pierced with golden earrings, but no crown of any sort.

“Interested in you?” Her sister laughed cruelly. “Eri, dear, look at you! You’re wearing bones.” 

“Well,” Ereshkigal paused. At least I’m wearing something, she thought. 

“Honey, you look as though you haven’t slept in ages,” She hadn’t. “You’re giving off vapors.” The aura of death followed wherever she went. Such was her nature. 

“Yes, I suppose.” Gods and humans alike had become so terrified of her. The latest rumor was that, if anyone would so much as utter her name - or tell her their name, that she would drag them to her murky domain. She found that quite amusing. In a way it was true, at least for mortals. She would have all of them eventually. It was only a matter of time. Granted, if someone were to help them along, she would not complain. The more subjects she had to rule, the better. 

She looked over the balcony again. The god who’d been staring at her was gone. 

Ishtar chatted her ear off about her most recent lover for a while. 

"I've got to go."

"Don't let the door clip your wings on your way out!" Her sister laughed at her as she left, like she was in on a joke that Ereshkigal was not.

After having retrieved her mask, she passed once more through the door to her sisters house, and stared out into the darkness. The neon lights of the city were giving her a headache. It had been long enough. It was time for her to go home. Someone cleared their throat next to her. 

She turned to see the god from the bar leaning against the wall, toying with a ball of fire in his right palm. 

“Hey,” he said. She detected an essence of war about him. Sparks were trailing from his feet and his black eyes glittered as he held her gaze. 

“Um… Hello.” She murmured, adjusting her bone-cloak around her shoulders. One of the child’s skulls serving as shoulder pads got caught in her hair by the teeth. “Augh.” She tugged but it would not come loose.

“Oh, lemme get that,” He reached out and gingerly pulled the hair free, brushing her cheek slightly with the back of his hand when he lowered his hand.

“Do you have business with me?” She narrowed her eyes at him, impressed with how bold he’d just been. No other god had dared so much as breathe in her direction in a thousand years, let alone touch her. 

“Well,” He grinned. “I’m a fan.” 

“A fan of death? You’re in the minority, I’m afraid.” She smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Who are you, anyhow? I’m sure I would remember you If we’d met previously.”

“My name is Nergal. Though some call me Erra. I have many other names too.” She could tell just by the way he said it that he was being truthful.

“Hm.” She murmured. “You gave me your real name. Aren’t you afraid I’ll take you away to the underworld?”

“My lady,” He grinned back, his cheeks red. “You can take me wherever you like.” 

….

Ishtar, Queen of Heaven, the one with many lovers, leaned against her long balcony and watched her sister disastrously flirt with one of her patrons. For whatever reason he was flirting back - and said something that made Ereshkigal’s sober face light up and turn pink. The two of them ended up racing into the night together, holding hands and casting long shadows as they disappeared into the darkness. 

“Aw, that's sort of cute.” She smiled to herself. “Hopefully they won’t end up destroying all life along their way…”

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so here are the biggest changes from the myths:  
> \- Ereshkigal can leave the underworld (in most ver it seems like that's a stay in job and she can't leave) in this ver she can, she just usually chooses not to.  
> \- in this ver she is also sort of the spirit of death itself, wherein the mythology that role is usually given to her vizier/son Namtar or minor demons.  
> -These are (somewhat) modern times. (I feel like, if the Mesopotamian gods were around, particularly Ishtar, they'd definitely go for the bar/club scene)
> 
> I wanted to combine some ideas:  
> These two meeting awkwardly at a bar instead of in the underworld,  
> Bone armor (wouldn't it be badass if the queen of the dead literally wore human bones as clothing! Wicked.)  
> Ishtar and Ereshkigal interacting outside of the one myth in which they appear together - this is 'Ianna's (another name for Ishtar) Descent into the underworld' wherein Eri actually ends up killing her, and she has to be rescued. I guess in this version they are on better terms (at least for the moment)
> 
> One more note: About the "Give her your name and she'll take you to the underworld" bit.  
> This actually comes from Greek tradition, where it was believed that invoking Hades' name could draw his ire, and perhaps the person who uttered it would be cursed or taken to the underworld. There may have been something similar in the time of Ereshkigal's worship, as she seemed to be a very feared goddess.


End file.
